I love Sundays. Since I started my Sabbath Experiment in September 2010, I've embraced this day of rest with appreciation and enthusiasm. After attending church and going out to lunch with the family yesterday, I was able to come home, curl up on the porch and nap for over two hours. Prior to my Sabbath Experiment, that would have never happened. I've found that forsaking work one day a week is not only delightful, it's also a responsible thing for me to do.
|Our last Mother's Day together (Lincoln didn't make it into the pic|
I must admit however, I'm not looking forward to next Sunday. On and off for the last several years, my daughters and their kids, joined us in driving a couple hours east on the turnpike and meeting my mom, who would drive a couple hours west on the turnpike. We'd meet in Bedford, PA where we would have lunch and share Mother's Day together.
This tradition goes way back, as a matter of fact. When my daughters were young, we used to do this, except we would pack a picnic lunch and meet at the little park by the river. The kids could play on the playground and, after my mom (who was widowed in 1982) remarried in 1996, would fish with their new grandpa. It was a lovely tradition that will leave a hole in my heart starting next Sunday.
I considered driving there anyway, but decided it would be entirely too painful to sit and watch for her car to pull into the parking lot. It would be too painful to not have her brand new great-grandchild with me to introduce to her. It would just be too painful. Period.
I'm not sure what next Sunday will be like for me. This is new territory in this grief-journey I am walking. If you've lost your mom, what was it like to spend your first Mother's Day without her? I'd love to hear your stories.